Confidence
by CemK
Summary: What remains when you lose all belief in yourself? Ron Stoppable confronts Shego, and himself, to save Kim from a fate worse than death.
1. Chapter 1

Discalimer: I do not own Kim Possible.

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_**Confidence**_

_by CemK_

Ah, coffee.

Shego leans in and looks at the dark brown liquid dancing in her cup. Its vapor hits her eyes, and she feels awake even before drinking the thing. She remembers her college years, and how much coffee she used to drink, then. Studying for classes is much harder when one also has the be on call for hero stuff every hour of every day of _every damn single week_.

She closes her eyes, annoyed. Now is not the time to think about the past, she scolds herself. Taking a sip of her coffee, she places the flimsy porcelain on a wooden lab table clad in empty test tubes. Leaning back on her small chair, also made of wood, she tries to make herself as comfortable as possible.

As the rather old piece of furniture creaks and groans in frustration to accommodate her changing center of mass, Shego tries to forget everything and just let herself drift in random thoughts.

She hears nothing. It is supposed to be that way, so she is not worried in the slightest. The secret entrance of the lair is an abandoned hangar, after all, last used about sixty years ago. Shego has always prided herself on doing her part of the job without any problems.

It makes her feel better, at least, when everything blows up in their face and she mocks Drakken for it.

So, she taps her foot, sitting next to a table which is probably the only furniture in a radius of ten miles. This place is so _empty_. She could her taps echoing along the concrete walls almost immediately after her boot hits the cement floor.

Without looking, she grabs her cup again and takes a gulp, much bigger this time. Her tongue burns, but at least it takes her mind off of her boredom.

Just where the hell is Drakken? The one time their plan is actually working, he disappears. She hopes he didn't use the CO-Ray on himself. She giggles at nobody, and puts the cup back on the table with a lazy clank. It's not like it'll work on him, anyway. Genius, yes. Confident, nah.

"Shego?"

Shego, startled, snaps open her eyes, and almost falls down from her chair. Standing before her is the last person she expects.

There, not thirty feet in front of her, in his mission gear, and trembling like a leaf, stands the lone form of Ron Stoppable.

She stands up, alarm bells ringing in her head. No way Kim can gather herself back so easily, she thinks. She still remembers how she felt after testing the Ray on herself. No way.

She can beat Kim, she knows that. She can even take on a murderous rampaging Kim , provided she is okay with killing her. The problem is that, if Kim shrugged off the effects of the Ray (and how she is going to kill Drakken for actually managing to get her hopes up this time!), she will be out for blood, and Shego has no idea how to settle such a confrontation without anyone ending up dead.

She really, really doesn't want anyone dead. She can't rule the world with that on her conscience.

"Kim's not here."

Shego, relieved, releases a breath she was hoarding in her lungs. She stares at the boy, who still seems to be experiencing his own private eartquake.

"And yet, you are here," she states the obvious. "Why?"

"I want _that_," Ron points at right next to her.

Shego stares at him. She turns, and looks at the table with the lab equipment. Among the translucent test tubes, beakers, and other paraphernalia, is a dull metal ball about the size of a tennis ball. It does nothing, just stands there innocuously.

Shego turns back to face Ron. "You come here, and believe me I have absolutely no idea how you found here, and you just- just expect me to hand in the single most important thing we have ever achieved to you?" she snarls. On any other day, she probably would have found his buffoonery hysterical. Now, however, she's cranky, bored, and irritated all at once. He couldn't have chosen a worse moment to tick her off if he _tried_.

She can hear his breathing. His heart must be beating a mile a minute. "Yes."

He starts walking toward her. His feeble attempt at intimidation fails a millisecond later, as his knees buckle, and he falls down on the floor, face first. An otherworldly thud is heard as flesh meets concrete.

Shego watches, speechless, the chaotic mess of limbs that lies on the cold cement twenty feet away from her. She's picking up the ball, and bending down to place it safely in her leg pouch, when she hears it.

Ron is _chuckling_.

She can't comprehend what is happening. He is reminding her of Drakken after one of his more... inane attempts.

_They're on their way back to one of their less conspicuous lairs, and Drakken is ranting. Shego is trying not to listen to him, but it is quite hard, since he is sitting right next to her._

_"Again, foiled by that Kim Possible!" he's saying."It was perfect! Perfect, I say! Everything was going according to the plan, and minutes before the whole world- the world!- bows down to my demands, she barges in! So close!" He slams a fist on the controllers, and yells in pain, holding his knuckles._

_Shego closes his eyes in irritation, and growls silently._

_"So close!" Drakken whines, his hand still partly in his mouth, suckling on his knuckles through the fabric of his glove._

_"Oh can it, D!" Shego yells at the top of her lungs. Her voice cuts the dark sky like a knife cutting through butter. She hears a flock of birds fly away, obviously scared for their lives. It is after midnight, and she can't even concentrate on the scenery to distract herself._

_"So close to what? Do you think at all? What do you think your damn army of paper planes would do? How in hell did you think they would pose a threat? What were you gonna do, paper cut the world into submission?"_

_Drakken attempts to open his mouth, but seeing Shego's murderous expression, stops. He just gapes at her eyes._

_Shego sees his boss' vulnerability. Usually, that's where she stops, and leaves the scientist to regroup. _

_Not today. Her back hurts, she will feel that punch tomorrow, and her hair is full of sand. To hell with his feelings! She can harness the power of the freaking sun, but instead has to contend herself with a glorified cheerleader!_

_"My job is to guard you. And I do! I hold your precious Kim Possible at bay, and what do you do? Get beaten by a good for nothing buffoon and a rat! A rat!"_

_Drakken seems to defy the laws of biology as nearly all of his blood migrate around her cheeks._

_"This is getting ridiculous! Maybe I should just go work for Dementor! You'd like that, wouldn't you?"_

_This time, Drakken pales beyond comprehension in mere seconds. All he could do is a meek shake of his head._

_"Or maybe you should just-- just retire, y'know? I would, if I were you. But no, you are Doctor Drakken!" she points at him. Her voice is trembling, and she knows she is on the verge of losing it. "Your ego exceeds the world you are trying to conquer! You will never accept defeat! Well, I'll tell you something, all right."_

_She glares at him dead in the eyes._

_An hour later, Drakken, with a stoic expression on his face, dashes to his private bedroom/lab, and Shego hears the sound of a door locking from her seat in the hover car. She is trembling, and she doesn't remember the last forty five minutes._

_A day passes, and Shego winds down enough to become worried about the mad scientist. Knowing his usual sleeping patterns (unfortunately), she knocks on the wooden door well after midnight._

_No response. It is too quiet. She can hear her own breathing, slow and controlled, a reflexive response to such a quiet and dark setting. She's a thief, even now. _

_She looks around, but sees nothing but darkness. Curse Drakken for being so cheap. Can't even buy a simple light bulb. Her boots sink into the soft carpet, making it hard to walk for her. She scowls, and knocks on the door again, louder this time. _

_This time, she hears a soft, rhythmic sound in response. She leans in and places her ear on the cool wooden surface, and holds her breath._

_She can hear soft chuckles, then sobs, sniffing. A sharp thump, rustling of rough pages, then chuckles again. It's as if he's trying to start one of his evil laughs, but can't quite manage to do it._

_Suddenly, Shego feels an inexplicable weight pressing down on her chest. She feels rotten._

_A few hours later, Drakken finally comes out of his room with a determined stride, a notebook filled with scribbled schemes and cartoonish drawings tucked under his arm, ranting about toys and something about the devil, but she only understands that because she knows some Spanish. _

Ron is sobbing now, but he pushes himself up, cheeks glistening. Shego can't see his eyes. He's muttering something to himself.

"I can't, I can't..." he shakes his head.

"Can't what? Walk on your own?"

Ron raises his head, and looks at her. She sees his glistening cheeks, and redness in his eyes. He is not looking at her face, but at her leg.

"Just- just give that ball, and- and I'll go. Please."

"Right. I'll give you the one thing that makes Drakken actually feel competent, and act competent, because?"

"It's killing Kim."

Shego frowns. If that's a side effect and Drakken didn't tell him...

"She's a wreck. She cries all day. She's refusing to eat. We had to restrain her to prevent her from harming herself. She just wants to curl up and die.

Please, Shego. You know Kim, you fight her. This is wrong. I can't see her like that anymore..."

Again, Shego remembers her private experimentation of the Ray, and remembers the helplessness, the constant feeling of terror, the doubt, and the chilling realization that no matter what she does, it will never be enough, never be right, and no one will help her, notice her, or love her...

She could easily have jumped off a bridge, at that point, had Drakken not intervened before she left the lair.

She can reminisce all day, but right now she needs to concentrate. At least now she has something to concentrate on in this godforsaken place. Maybe she _can_ do something to alleviate the suffocating feeling of boredom.

Ron is walking towards her now. His face reveals so many emotions, but she can see right through him. He is desperate. He probably tried ever other way with that nerd who helps her, and she's his her last option. He's sad, so sad. Shego has no idea how seeing someone so close to you wilting away like that feels like. Her parents... that was immediate. They were there, boom, and then they were not.

She has no idea what to do.

"I'm begging you. I'll do anything y-you want. I will. Tell me to k-kill myself, right here, right now, and I'll do it. Just please, _please_ give Kim back her confidence." He seems to have trouble standing up again. He may accept death, but that obviously doesn't mean he's terrified of it.

Shego watches as the boy who stands no more than six feet away from her struggles to stop any involuntary movement. She should be enjoying this, the feeling of having power so complete over someone, but she feels nothing.

"No."

Ron's breath hitches in his throat, and he looks at her, helpless, uncomprehending. He's on the verge of disintegrating, and it compels Shego to continue. She tries to keep her expression as detached as possible.

" I do not care why you came here, or how much you are willing to sacrifice. Drakken and I were _never_ so close to- to actually winning. Not even the Diablo's... He may screw up everything again, God knows he has the talent to do so, but I will not. I will not cause him to- to hold that over _me_."

_Drakken is sobbing, and then he starts to laugh, and Shego can't take her ear off the door._

She starts to pace back and forth, hands clasped behind her back. Some cheap fluorescent lamps lighting up the hanger flicker, making small clicking sounds as they do so.

"I understand."

Shego stops in mid stride, and turns, incredulous. "You do?"

Ron flashes a wet smile, blinking tears from his eyes. "Yes, I do."

" You do not want to fail him."

Shego wants to say something, but she can't find the words. She stares at him, mouth agape.

"It'll all be your fault. Nothing will be the same again, maybe. He will forgive you- of course he will forgive you, but you will not forgive yourself." Tears flow freely for his eyes, and he lowers his head, ashamed.

Right at that moment, Shego knows what she has to do. She just knows. It is not just a job, anymore. It is her responsibility.

Bending over and opening her leg pouch, she palms the object and her arm reaches forward. She aligns her hand so that it is placed right in between her eyes. She glares at Ron.

"You want this?" she asks.

Before Ron can move, she turns, and flings the ball at her back. The air whips in protest as she moves her arm. The ball flies, flies, hits a cup on the table, smashing it, soars between empty glassware, and lands on the floor, halting only after hitting the concrete wall.

Ron hears something liquid splashing on the floor, and he smells coffee.

Kim and he used to study all night for tests, and he would take off and bring her her favorite coffee while she was occupied with an especially challenging question. Kim loved challenges.

Shego smiles, and her hands curl up in fists. Her leather gloves creak, the titanium of its tips shine. She's sure the boy can see the ball behind her.

"Let's play."

* * *

TBC

AN: This story will be a two parter, so keep your eyes alert for a second chapter. Don't forget the feedback!


	2. Chapter 2

Warning: Okay folks, this chapter is not pretty. Tell me if need to upgrade this story to an 'M' rating. As always, I don't own Kim Possible. You know the drill.

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_**Confidence, part 2**_

_by CemK_

She never sees the punch.

She jerks to her side, her body tipping over like a ragdoll. She just, just manages to put a foot down to regain her balance, purely on instinct, to save her from a nasty fall.

And then comes the kick. Right into her gut.

It hits her like a sledgehammer, taking all the air out of her lungs. She bends over, grunting, and back she goes. Her throat burns as she takes small little steps, opening her arms to her sides balance herself.

It doesn't work.

Her lower back smashes into the edge of the table and the test tubes shudder on their stands. Her body rotates like a lever. The back of her head slams down, hard. This time she doesn't grunt.

Amidst Shego's cry of agony, and the inevitable breaking of freefalling glassware, Ron is already moving.

For a split second, she doesn't move, trying to concentrate on something else. Anything else, really. She tastes blood. Probably her lip, or maybe she bit her tongue somehow. Her waist feels like someone tore her apart into two and reattached her without looking at the instruction manual. The back of her head feels like it's bleeding, but it probably doesn't. She didn't hit her head that hard. However, she can't deny the fact that it _hurts. _Hurts so much.

Heh.

Footsteps mix with the flickering clicks of the lights. Ron is running with all his might chest heaving in pain as well as exertion. He tries to press his left hand to his chest with his right hand to alleviate the searing pain in his knuckles somewhat. He doesn't know whether he's succeeding or not. His eyes burn with tears, but not even pain can deny him his goal. He stops momentarily, and reaches for the ball on the ground with his uninjured hand.

He stops just before the fingertips of his gloves touch the surface. Breaking his focus, he turns his head. Beads of sweat fly off in all direction.

Shego is laughing. It's not an evil cackle, nor a sadistic glee. Ron can't tear his eyes off of her as she slowly recomposes herself, and checks the back of her head with a hand, still laughing. A small trickle of blood trails down from the corner of her lip, and her hair is far from the usual wavy form. Absentmindedly, she checks her hair for any stray pieces of glittering glass. And she's still laughing...

_"Ready to go, folks!" says a pilot over the thundering engine of the plane._

_Kim gives him a thumbs up in response, and nudges Ron forward to the door. It opens with a clang, and he feels as if he is constantly hitting a wall which disintegrates the instant it touches him. His skin feels numb, but his teeth are not clattering because of the cold._

_Over the screaming wind, he looks at Kim. His goggles distort her image a little, but he doesn't need his eyes to see that she's smiling. "Ladies first."_

_Kim laughs, grabs his hand, and jumps. For the next few minutes, all he has is the air whipping around him, his innards dancing freely in his body, and her._

_And she's still laughing..._

Shego runs for him. Ron can't think. He clutches the ball, and tightens his fist around it so much that his wrist protests. He can't fight. He can't flee. He can't...

See.

The next thing he hears is a sickening smack, and then a cry of pain. When he is able to see again, Shego is not running for her anymore. She's ten feet away from him, on one knee, holding her face with both hands. She's rocking back and forth. A ball is slowly rolling away from both of them. The sound of metal rolling on rock somehow reminds Ron of playing pinball, and taking turns with Kim in the arcade center. He just stares at the thing slowly distancing itself from him.

"Nice aim."

He stops looking at the ball, and looks at Shego. She's on her feet again, hands in fists, jaw set in determination. Or anger.

He bets on anger.

She blinks, once, and a single tear leaves her bloodshot eye. She is staring right at his eyes. Ron stays his ground. He is afraid like never before, his limbs tremble in all sorts of directions, and he just- just can't think, can't think at all.

Yet, he doesn't move, transfixed.

Slowly, she turns her head. She spits some blood to her side, never breaking her gaze. She's not moving. Why is she not moving? Is she going to let him go? Is it over?

_"It never ends! It never ends!" Kim wails. She's sobbing uncontrollably, and Ron is doing everything he can to not join her. She's clinging to him as tightly as possible as they lay, and the springs of the bed cause them to oscillate up and down softly with each body shattering heave. Ron pats her back with trembling hands, careful to avoid the blistered patch of skin just below her shoulder blades. The arm she has trapped between her side and the bed has gone numb, but he doesn't care. Her hair, wet from his soaked shoulders, covers his head like a blanket; auburn is all he sees .The smell of her hair, and the taste of her tears... He says nothing, and just holds her tighter than he held anything, well into the night, until both of them are peacefully surrounded by sleep's respite._

He looks at the ball, still rolling away obliviously away from them.

"No," Shego says, shaking her head. She too is looking at it. She's smiling as she wipes off some blood from her chin with her sleeve.

She's just standing there. She tilts her head to her side, watching him as if he is some part of a very entertaining puzzle she's trying to solve.

"Please," he repeats. "I'll do anything." He's fully expecting Shego to discard his pleas, but that's all he can do right now. Beg, and somehow get lucky. As for his promise...

He'll cross that bridge when he comes to it.

He fully expects her to not answer. She can easily pounce upon him, land in a few strikes just for kicks, and _then, _only after he's a bloody pulp only just resembling anything human, after he's tethering on the edge of passing out from a combination of exhaustion, pain, and fright, and after he can smell his own urine seeping through his pants can she answer with a blazing one liner, closing the lid on his humiliating defeat.

Instead, she just raises an eyebrow. "Anything?" The injured side of her lip twitches involuntarily.

Ron, dumbstruck, nods. He breath refuses to come out of his throat, and his lips tremble, but he forces himself to speak. " J- Just-"

A green blur.

The punch to his solar plexus completely catches him off guard. As he tries to regain his balance and understand what's going on, he sees Shego, right in front of him, her fist enclosed in another. She swings her arms as if she's swinging a bat, aiming precisely.

Hit.

He was right, after all.

Ron knows nothing but pain.

Shego watches as his head snaps sideways, locks of blonde hair taking off from where they were resting on skin, forming a brief halo, spittle flying everywhere. He stumbles, hands trying to find a wall that is not there, until, finally, he falls.

"Ugh," Shego grumbles as she swipes off saliva from her cheek. She walks towards him, and positions herself so that he is laying directly between her boots.

He whimpers beneath her, kicking with his legs frantically, to get away from her. The shoulder of his shirt catches on something, but he can't care. Cloth tears. She doesn't move, towering over him and just watches as he guards his face with both hands. Blood seeps between his fingers, and she hears something dripping on the floor, on her boots.

She raises a hand, perpendicular to the ground, and watches as redness travels from her knuckles to the back of her hand, twisting and crisscrossing canals falling prey to gravity, only to be soaked by the fabric beginning at her wrist.

She hears heavy breathing, and looks up. Ron is standing up, not ten feet away from her, one hand still holding the side of his eye. His blood still flows freely under his palm, and drips slowly on the floor from where his glove ends. He is having trouble maintaining his balance, but manages not to fall. She growls, a guttural sound.

Is he just going to take it and take it and take it and then expect her to give in? Who does he think she is?

Ron can see that Shego is angry. Genuinely angry. Ron, however, can't even find the energy to be afraid. He's having trouble breathing as it is. Hands on his knees, he pants.

"Fight me!" she yells at the top of her lungs. Ron cringes in response, and backs away a step.

Bad move.

"If you want that thing so much, if you want _her_ so much, then get it, you-"

Ron frowns. Shego is not yelling anymore. Instead, she is just staring at him, mouth agape, her words forgotten before even being formed in her head. No. She is not staring at his bloody face, nor at his trembling arms. She's staring at his neck. His neck. Which means...

Oh, shit.

Ron risks a glance, and looks directly at the place he knows she's staring. There, enclosed by a layer of now torn fabric, lays a patch of skin, red as the blood slowly pooling around his feet.

Shego knows exactly what that is. Swiftly, ignoring the boy, she takes off her left glove, grimacing. She knows it is there, she feels it, but she still- she still needs to confirm. She needs to know.

There. Her nails as black as the sky outside, pale, slender fingers, but her palm... Her palm...

That is where she tried _it_ on herself. Then...

"You..." she looks up. She can't believe it.

"Yes," Ron says. Then he's gone.

Shego , glove forgotten, leaps after him.

Bloodied gloves reach for the metal sphere. Slowly, very slowly, the gap between them closes. But they never meet, as the hand is parried by another.

Bodies clash in mid air. The sphere shudders, but remains stationary, a detached spectator to what's happening.

Shego's discarded glove lands on the floor.

The combatants roll wildly on the floor, holding each other. Ron cries in anger, Shego is grunting.

When they stop, it is Ron who's on the top. With a frantic cry, he raises a fist.

Too slow, Shego thinks. Pity.

With practiced ease, she head butts him on the forehead, and drives a knee to his crotch.

Ah, the pain.

She slowly gets up, chest heaving, and touches her forehead with an index finger. It's wet, but whose blood? Doesn't matter, really. It hurts. She shakes her head. Now's not the time to see colorful flashes. Concentrate.

_"Concentrate, Shego."_

_She whips around and stares at Drakken. "It's easy for you to say. You're not the one who can send everything in a hundred feet radius into oblivion with a goddamn thought!" _

_Behind ten feet thick glass, Drakken sighs, and rubs his forehead. He leans to speak to the microphone in front of him. "I know, I know. But you have a gift, Shego. A gift. And regardless of how you feel about it, not realizing your powers to their full capacity is not only an insult to science, but also to yourself."_

_"I'm fine with my powers! I like them the way they are!" This place, is making her claustrophobic. After five hours, seeing nothing but concrete walls and concentrating on progressively smaller targets, she's thinking this wasn't such a good idea._

_"Nngh!" Drakken closes his eyes and tries to take some deep breaths. It doesn't work much._

_"You should give up on the Yoga thing, Dr. D. It's not really for you."_

_Drakken snaps. "You want to learn using your powers or not?"_

_"This is so not worth the time! It's been five hours. Five! Not one, not two, not-"_

_"You have a point?"_

_Shego raises her eyebrows. "Ooh, someone forgot to have their coffee today." He probably did forget to have his coffee, Shego muses. It is well after midnight. His hair is untied, and he is obviously tired from working._

_Eh, whatever. _

_"Right. Good night then, Shego." His face is emotionless. The lights in his observation room turn off, and Shego stares at the darkness, amazed._

_"Drakken! Come back here!" No answer. Her voice echoes in the room. The thin film of sweat on her skin is drying now, and she's shivering slightly._

_She huffs. "All right. You win! Let's do it your way." _

_Nothing._

_As she presses on the control panel to open the steel doors, she's muttering to herself. Drakken is so dead. Nobody ditches her. Nobody._

_She strides directly to his room. With a growl, she encases her hand with a concussive glow, and punches right through the lock of his door. Wood gives in, but her hand doesn't feel any pain. With a kick, she opens the door. It slams to the wall, and come off its hinges. Cheap work. _

_"Drakken! get your sorry butt here and get back to-"_

_He is not there. _

_She hears the distant roar of his flying car taking off, and looks at the pieces of wood scattered around the bare stone floor. It's quiet. She can't avert her eyes from the floor._

_Her hand starts to hurt._

Probably not as much as the poor bastard is hurting right now, she thinks. She looks at the figure rolling away from her, a tight ball of misery.

She starts to walk toward the sphere. Her feet splashes on the floor. Brown, coffee, mixed with red. It's the most curious color. Her glove is slippery, but she grips the ball nicely, and safely, all right.

Ron is still on the floor, rocking back and forth. He suddenly stops. Shego freezes. has he passed out already?

No. She sees him stick out his head. He blindly searches for her, his face a mask of pain. He finds her, lips trembling, and locks on her eyes.

And he _roars_.

He has no words for the sadness, pain, desperation, fear... he can't...

He's on all fours, and he's dry heaving. Shego can only watch as he slowly but surely gets up.

_He gets up._

"How?" she asks. How, indeed. He's been...

"It. Doesn't. Matter!" he spits out, and hobbles towards her. It is slow, it is excruciatingly painful. Still, he comes.

Shego still doesn't budge, seemingly unaware of his actions. She holds up a bare finger, and Ron, inexplicably, stops, waiting for her. His heart feels like it's pounding in his throat.

Shego looks at the ball. "That means this thing has-"

"It doesn't matter!" he takes a wild swing at her. Shego takes a step back, and his arm hit nothing.

"The hell it doesn't!" her palm strikes him right on his chest, and Ron, too tired to even try to prevent himself from falling, sprawls on the ground again. The side of his head slams on the floor, and he cries out in pain.

Shego is looking at the object in her hand. If he gives its contents back to Kim, then he won't ever-

Ron is getting up again. "Sh- Shego..."

"Oh no you don't!" Shego knees him right on the forehead.

Ron screams. And screams. He curls up in a fetal position, holding his head. He rolls in the small puddle, and he smells dried blood and cold coffee.

She can't bear to see someone like this. She looks away.

"This is ridiculous! I get that you want to save _her_, but-"

"Shego!" Ron yells. It is not a cry for help. It is not a plea. It is a battle cry. And it's _much_ closer to her than she thought.

Splashes amidst quick footsteps, a grunt, and they are on the floor again. She is under him, and he's straddling her body with his own. Her arms lay ineffectually on her sides. Shego looks up at Ron. His hair is wet, his face is bleeding everywhere. His teeth are bared. The whiteness of them are quite a contrast among the red. Shego moans in pain. She wants to say something.

This time, however, he's not slow. He lands his fist with all his might.

A crack is heard, just as another finishes, and Ron relishes the scream. He _is_ the scream. He joins it.

Shego's eyes are half closed, and her face displays no emotion. her cheek is bleeding.

A glove opens up like a flower in the spring, and the sphere rolls out once more. Ron reaches for it. Every single shattered bone in his hand protest, but he leans off of Shego's body a little and reaches for the ball.

The gloved hand twitches once, and then shoots up like a snake striking its target. It intercepts Ron's hand inches before the ball, and twists, hard.

He is the scream. He is the pain.

He is down on his knees, cradling his now thoroughly destroyed and swollen hand, as she gets up.

Shego's eyes are open, her black lipstick is almost completely gone, and half her face is riddled with bruises and blood, but her face is oddly pensive.

Funny. He can still smell the coffee from where he stands.

"I'm sorry. I really am," she says.

_"It never ends! It never ends!"_

She is the last thing he sees before falls on the ground, limp.

* * *

To Be Concluded

AN: Yeah, the two parter thing didn't work out. There will be a third chapter. A sequel is also in the works. Plot bunnies are evil. As always, reviews are very much appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Confidence, part 3_**

_by CemK_

* * *

_"Ron?"_

_"Wha-? Kim?"_

_"Ron! You're awake! Shh, don't try to get up right now. You're too weak. Just- just relax, okay?"_

_"KP? Are you okay? It can't- can't be over! This doesn't make sense! Shego-"_

_"Ran away. You delayed her long enough to have GJ pinpoint your location. She got away, but they saved you."_

_"That means you-"_

_"Yes. We're trying to find a way to have yours restored. "_

_"KP?"_

_"Yes, Ron?_

_"Why can't I see?"_

_"Bandages. Your eyes have gone extensive surgery. Shego really did a number on them."_

_"W- What!"_

_"Ron! Be calm, please! You'll be okay, I promise. I promise. We can do anything, right? Ron! Right?"_

_"Yeah..."_

_"We'll get her when all this is over. We'll- we'll get her, and "_

_"It never ends..."_

_"Ron! Come on, Ron. Snap out of it! Maybe he's drugged you too much..."_

_"Wh- who?"_

_"Ah, the doctor. You were in too much pain. Severe trauma does that."_

_"Sorry, KP."_

_"You have nothing to be sorry for. You've saved me. You've saved everyone. You've nothing to be sorry for, Ron. You're the bravest person I know."_

_"You mean that?"_

_"Of course I mean that! Ron, you went out and confronted Shego! How else could you go and fight Shego like that?"_

_"That was stupid, though."_

_"Eh... yes. But it is you. And I wouldn't have you any other way."_

_"But my eyes..."_

_"They will be okay. I promise. Ron! Shh, it's okay. It's okay... Don't cry, please."_

_"Okay. Okay. I won't. I'm okay."_

_"Do you want some water? I bet you feel thirsty."_

_"Wa- water?"_

_"Well, we don't have a lot of options here, y'know?" _

_"Not now, but thanks. I'm tired. So... tired._

_"You deserve your rest, I'll come back when you wake up, then."_

_"No! Don't leave, please! Just, stay- stay with me, at least..."_

_"Of course, Ron. I'll be there for you, just like you were there with Shego for me. Don't worry. Sleep. I love you."_

_"Love you too, KP... So much."_

* * *

_"Uhh... KP? You there?"_

_"You're awake. You slept well, Ron."_

_"Well... What time is it?"_

_"Er, let me check... Five."_

_"In the morning, I guess?"_

_"Yes."_

_"My head is very fuzzy, though, even after all the sleep."_

_"Ron, you look like someone hit you with a truck. You can't sleep off something like that in a day ."_

_"Oh, right."_

_"How did you take such a beating without passing out?"_

_"I'm thirsty."_

_"Oh. Okay, I'll get the pitcher. Here's your glass. Try not to gold it too tightly."_

_"Thanks, KP."_

_"You're welcome. I've told the doctor to wean you off the drugs a little. That's probably another reason for your fuzziness." _

_"Heh. My fingertips are tingling."_

_"You'll have to live with that for a while. He told me he can't take you off the drugs completely. You'll be in agony."_

_"I'll be okay. How about you? Are you okay?"_

_"Ah, I'll be fine. It was... hard, you know? But no big. I'll be okay. In a few weeks all this will just seem like a nightmare."_

_"Yeah... How's my parents?"_

_"They visited you before you came to your senses. They'll come back again sometime tomorrow. It's hard for them too, probably. Wade's been working on finding Shego with GJ. I'd help them..."_

_"You should."_

_"No. You need me more than you do."_

_"I can manage myself. People need your help."_

_"People need our help, Ron."_

_"Maybe. But you can fight her. I can't. Not without getting my butt handed to me, as you can see. It hurts, you know?"_

_"Your butt?"_

_"Er... The truth. The reality of the situation?_

_"Oh."_

_"Well, my butt also hurts."_

_"Uh, that's not entirely true, by the way."_

_"KP, I know my butt hurts. It's my butt. It hurts."_

_"I know. I've no doubt about that. I mean the part about your getting your butt-"_

_"This conversation is starting to have too many butts in it, KP. _

_"..."_

_"Nice to see you smile like that, by the way."_

_"How do you-" _

_"I know. I mean, yeah, she didn't kill me, but-"_

_"Shego doesn't kill, Ron."_

_"Maybe..."_

_"No. She's evil, but she doesn't kill. Trust me."_

_"Okay... But what do you mean that's not entirely true?"_

_"Um, Wade. He told me that some of the blood in the hangar wasn't yours, it was hers."_

_" So?"_

_"Ron, you slugged Shego so hard that it drew blood! You're underestimating yourself."_

_"No confidence, remember?"_

_"How?"_

_"Uh, how?"_

_" How did you do the things you did, then? I don't remember what I was like after Drakken shot me, but the ray is supposed to completely eradicate one's self belief. Which means you did all that stuff-"_

_"I don't know, okay? I don't want to talk about that."_

_"Very well, Ron. You're right."_

_"When can they take these bandages off? They itch."_

_"Your eyes need time to heal."_

_"Time which you don't have. Go with GJ, KP. Find Shego."_

_"How about we talk about her, then? That may be a way to-"_

_"No."_

_"Uh..."_

_"Don't try to extract my confidence thingy, either. It is yours now. I didn't have much of it anyway. It's been a while since I was hit by the Ray. I'm better now. I will get better. "_

_"I didn't get better-"_

_"Maybe that's because the Ray was directed at you specifically."_

_"Or maybe it's because confidence is not what enables you to go out there and fight the good fight."_

_"But then how-"_

_"I don't know, Ron. But we'll... Uh, we'll find out."_

_"Heh. Don't catch a fly, there."_

_"Sorry for that." _

_" Forgot about the time. It's late, and I probably woke you up..."_

_"You didn't."_

_"Anyway, you should sleep. It's been a hectic week for both of us."_

_"That's an understatement."_

_"You know me, I'm the understatement guy."_

_"Right."_

_"That was sarcasm, right?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Oh. I never get them... By the way, tell...Tell Rufus I said hi. He must be quite worried. G'night, Kim."_

_"Good night, Ron." _

* * *

_"Hey, sleepyhead. Wake up."_

_"Uhh. I'm the patient here. Shouldn't you say the opposite?"_

_"Well, um, I was bored."_

_"Don't blame ya, KP. So when are they going to take these bandages off?."_

_"You always ask that. I'll personally take them off when you are ready, okay?"_

_"Wouldn't have it any other way."_

_"I know you wouldn't."_

_"What's up with the Shego front?"_

_"They're closing in on her. I actually asked Dr. Director to join the search, just because you asked."_

_"And..."_

_"She said you needed me more than they did."_

_"Right."_

_"Ron Stoppable! Are you accusing me of lying?"_

_"I'm not accusing you of anything! It's just that..."_

_"What?"_

_"I don't want to... Uh, restrict you or anything."_

_"Ron. You took the beating of a lifetime for me. I'm always there for you. Know it. Feel it in your heart. I. Am. There. For. You."_

_"I know! And I'm always there for you, too, KP. But I'm in a hospital room, and you are wasting time here babysitting me. You should-"_

_"No."_

_"But-"_

_"No."_

_"Argh! Okay, okay. You can be so stubborn sometimes."_

_"Family trait."_

_"Speaking of family, how are your parents feeling about this?"_

_"Uh, they're okay with it. At least, I suppose they are. We didn't talk much about it, to be honest."_

_"But-"_

_"I'm not sneaking out at night to see you."_

_"Wow. Can you read my thoughts?"_

_"I know."_

_"Heh."_

_"Do you want some water?"_

_"Yeah. My tongue is getting all sticky."_

_"Maybe because you talk too much."_

_"Hey!"_

_"Here's your water. Be careful."_

_"Thanks."_

_"It's cold, isn't it? You like cold water."_

_"Yes. Yes. I do... I always liked cold water..."_

_"Ron? What's wrong? Are you crying?"_

_"It's nothing. No- nothing. It's just- just..."_

_"Ron, tell me. Tell me what's wrong. Is it hurting? Is it the meds?"_

_"It feels so good. So good. But... I- I can't "_

_"Can't what? Ron, talk to me! You're hyperventilating! Watch out! The glass!"_

_"I can't do this anymore.. Feels so good, but... I can't do this anymore..."_

_"Ron, please just breathe. Breathe. In. Out. In .Out. Tell me what's wrong. Please. Calm down. Calm down..."_

_"Take off the bandages."_

_"What? But Ron-"_

_"Take them off."_

_"They-"_

_"I do not care. take them off."_

_"I don't-"_

_"I said. Take!. Them!. Off!"_

_"..."_

_"..."_

_"Very well."_

With a jerk, the piece of cloth is taken off of teary, but otherwise intact eyes. Ron stares at the woman before her.

"Get the hell out of my room, Shego."

She looks at Ron in the eyes, face expressionless. Slowly, she brings a hand in front of her mouth and spits out a minuscule, metallic device. Crushing it with her hands, she throws the remains on Ron's mattress. Some fall off the bed, and join the broken pieces of glass on the floor. She leaves.

Ron stares at the ceiling.

* * *

AN: I give up. This will be a full blown story. I have absolutely no self control...


	4. Chapter 4

**_Confidence, part 4_**

_by CemK_

* * *

Ron stares at the ceiling.

He's been staring at the ceiling for a long, long time. At least he thinks so. He may be asleep, and dreaming. This long interval of doing nothing in particular may just be a millisecond looping in his head.

Does it matter?

No, he thinks. It doesn't matter.

He doesn't know if his eyes are closed or not. The ceiling is painted black, as are the walls and the floor. Even the bed, the sheets, and his pillow are black.

A deep breath comes out of nowhere, and Ron's chest rises up a little more as his lungs expand more than usual.

He shouldn't have taken the bandages off. There's nothing worth seeing here. At least, with them, he had Kim. In his semi drugged state, there was no pain, no broken hands, no bruises, no Shego. Only Kim's voice existed. And she wasn't crying, or begging, or- or breaking down in front of his eyes. Her voice wasn't trembling. She was his strong, confident Kim. His Kim. For more than a week, he was deprived of that voice.

Maybe Shego can wipe his memories and talk to him again. That voice changing thing is really quite marvelous. He doesn't need bandages, he can just close his eyes. He would never open them again. He'll be happy. Shego too, will be happy, he guesses, but he has no idea why. Kim...

Well, she's already dead, isn't she?

He tried to save her. He really did. And failed. He got up. And failed again. Again and again and again, until he had nothing left. He truly feels like he has nothing left inside. He can't even feel guilty for losing her; he doesn't even have a tear to shed for her anymore. And he doesn't understand the lack of feeling.

Is Shego still drugging her? She may be drugging the food. He can never know; she only brings him food when he's asleep. Feigning sleep never works for some reason, or maybe he's just unlucky and she wouldn't have came in his room at those times he was feigning anyway?

Ron closes his eyes and a growl emits from his throat. He's going crazy in this hellhole.

Maybe she wants him crazy?

The door opens, and he perks up. Realizing that it may be his only chance to catch Shego without her guard, he quickly puts his head back on his pillow, and closes his eyes. His breathing is shallow, but his heart is pounding away.

"I know you are awake, Ron."

Without moving, Ron asks, "Why are you here, then?"

"I'm bored."

Ron doesn't answer.

"Don't say you are dandy and fine here," Shego presses on. "You are bored out of your mind, too."

Casually, Ron props himself up on his pillow, and sighs. His eyes are still closed, but he faces her. "Is this what's all about to you? Fun?"

"Mostly, yeah. Spot on." She claps her hands.

Ron makes a soft sound that Shego can either interpret as a sigh or a chuckle.

"So, you have any questions for me? Do you want to know why you're still here, recovering? Do you know how long you've been here? How I know exactly when you're sleeping, and when you just fake it? Do you know what happened after you lost consciousness? Wha-"

"Yes, I know."

Shego gapes. "How on earth can you possibly know?"

"I don't. I just wanted you to shut up for a second."

The door slams. Such a harsh noise has never sounded so sweet.

* * *

"It's quite interesting to see you like this. So... angry."

Ron doesn't answer. He again keeps his eyes closed, but he can see the room in his mind's eye. There's not much to see. The place seems like a coal box with a bed and a small table next to it. There's an equally bleak door in front of his bed. Nothing else.

Backup lair.

Shego is standing next to the door, leaning on the wall. She's not wearing her usual jumpsuit. Black slacks and a stained white t shirt that seems too big for her. Maybe Drakken's. Heh.

Means she's not expecting an attack any time soon. Normal clothing burns very easily when she fires up.

He's screwed.

"This place is boring," she fiddles with a loose strand of hair. Ron notices that her hair is in a very long ponytail. Never seen her like that before. This place probably has a gym, he thinks. If it has a gym, then it's not some hellhole she has to get out sometimes to take care of needs like eating. She can live here as long as she wants.

Damn.

"You are not," she continues.

"Yeah. I'm very interesting. I get it. Thank you."

"He speaks!"

"You have a point?"

"No, but you have questions. I can answer them."

"I even get to ask my own questions? Wow."

"Oh, shut up."

"Thought you were not into the evil gloating thing."

"We already won. I can gloat as much as I want."

Ron opens his eyes and sits up in his bed so quickly that his head feels dizzy. "What?"

"We didn't conquer the world, if that's what you want to know."

"So-"

"Money. Drakken actually kept the world hostage. Unleashed the Ray on a small town. GJ had to negotiate for the containers."

"You guys gonna retire?"

"Are you kidding?" she smiles. "I'm not in this for the money. The look on those guys' faces when they realized they'd lost was priceless. I practically live for those moments."

"You, maybe. Drakken?"

Her smile falters a little."Don't know. Haven't talked with him for a while."

"Why?"

"He told me to lay low for a while. Makes sense."

"He's _Drakken_."

"I know. He's on a roll, though."

"Probably because he got Kim for good, this time."

Nothing. Shego looks away. Ron clenches his jaw.

"So. How's it gonna be? You gonna kill her while she's crying herself to sleep? I know you can. You know where she lives."

Shego's head snaps back at Ron. "I. Don't. Kill."

Ron breaks his gaze, staring at the ceiling. The ceiling is his friend. "Yeah, yeah. You've told me that before. Everything has a first time, though, right?"

Shego frowns. The corner of her mouth raises a little. "You actually want me to kill her?"

"Yes." Ron is still staring at the ceiling.

Shego blinks. Then she blinks again.

"I can tell you the password of the security systems of her room. Since they know I am gone, the house will be pretty fortified. Wade. But I can give you the passwords. She doesn't leave her bed much, but she sleeps little. If you enter around four or five in the morning, though, she'll be sleeping."

Shego can only stare as Ron continues to talk to the ceiling.

"I've seen you shock people. With your finger. Just a little higher, just a little more powerful... Promise me that it'll be painless, and I'll tell you."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"No. I know. I know I failed to save her when Drakken shot her in the back with the Ray. I know what she felt, and still feels. I know you also know that feeling. I know she will not survive another week, no matter what her parents do. I also know that it won't be pretty, and it won't be painless. She will not die in her sleep, or drift away peacefully, or- or have someone like me hold her hand. Don't you _dare_ tell me I'm out of my mind. _I know exactly what I'm talking about!_"

Someone is breathing heavily, but she has no idea who. Her ponytail swings in the air in an arc as she turns, and leaves with a clang of the door. Ron is alone again. He twitches his nose, and smiles briefly.

His pillow smells good.

* * *

"Oh, you are _good_."

Ron laughs. He sits up to face Shego, who's now wearing a now more fitting t-shirt and jeans. "Or you are too gullible. It's been _days_. Probably. By the way, did you change my pillow while I was sleeping?"

"Eh?"

"The pillow," Ron reaches blindly with his uninjured hand and grabs the object in question from his back. He shows it to Shego. "Did you change it? It smells different." He's smiling.

"You would never let me kill Kim, would you?"

"Doesn't matter what I do. I know you wouldn't kill her."

"I told you I wouldn't!"

"Now you _know_ you wouldn't. Everybody's happy."

Shego can't restrain herself. She lets out a small chuckle. Then, she smirks.

"_She's_ not. She will never be happy again. And that's if she survives another week without killing herself. I may not have the- the... I may not kill her myself while she's so defenseless, but I will be there when she draws her last breath. She at least deserves that after leaving me to _rot_."

"Whatever, Shego. If that makes you sleep at night..." Ron turns and readies himself to sleep again.

The room turns green. Then, just as quickly, the fire vanishes, and Shego is gone.

Ron lets out a deep, troubled sigh, his chest visibly expanding and deflating even underneath the mattress. The pounds of a headache join the ever present moans of his hand, face and kneecaps. He knows something is coming up, but he has no idea what.

He's not sure _anybody_ knows.

* * *

Glass shatters, and Shego screams in delight as she sails out of the windows and onto the cold, hard asphalt outside. She easily rolls with the fall, and uses a car behind her to spring back into the action. The occupants waiting for her are momentarily blinded as the early morning sun reflects off of her hair. She grabs an approaching fist absentmindedly, and twists it until it cracks.

So what if she couldn't sleep?

She twists the hand even more, but then a kick on her back releases her hold on the man. Her back is riddled by glass cuts all over, and someone has the _audacity_ to kick her on there. Out of balance, she stumbles next to a small round table.

A large hand comes out of nowhere and gets a hold on the back of her head. Just before her head slams on a table, she wonders why this place is so dark. She can't see anything here.

As her head contacts with wood, she remembers that it was her who snuffed out all the lights.

Oh.

She's sputtering, and her head feels like it's cracking in half. Hell, it probably _is_ cracking in half, considering the situation she's in. She blindly strikes at her behind with both elbows, and hits flesh. She hears a grunt, and something that sounds suspiciously like "bitch," but the guy behind her doesn't budge.

Well, so much for _that_ plan.

She closes her eyes as her head jerks down again. Her hair flails around and between the hand which so cruelly holds the scalp it's attached to. Here it comes...

Wood shatters, and this time she screams in pain.

* * *

"Wow. You look like-"

"I know. Let's just say that I'm not a people person."

"Or very, _very_ clumsy."

"Shut up and eat your food."

"What, no 'I can answer your questions!' crap? I thought-"

"Think whatever you want. You don't deserve answers."

"Maybe. But I'm not dead, or otherwise incapacitated-"

"Except for being locked in a ten by ten room for..."

"For?"

"For a _long _time_._"

"Heh. Anyway. Since I'm alive, and actually talking to you, you must have a plan."

"I don't do plans."

"I know. You're not playing to your strengths here. You're desperate. You need me for something."

"Cute. You're actually developing a brain."

"No. _The walls are speaking to me._"

"What?"

"Just kidding. Lots of spare time."

"..."

"Bye, Shego! Watch your step at the stairs this time!"

* * *

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

_**Confidence, part 5**_

_by CemK_

* * *

"Heads up," Shego says, and throws a ball at Ron.

Ron, still sleeping, turns his head to comprehend what's happening, only to have a plastic red projectile hit him right on the nose.

"Aaah!" he yells, but the thing proves to be soft and squishy, and bounces off of his face innocently. It ricochets off a wall and rolls around on the floor for a while before stopping somewhere out of sight.

"What in the world was that?"

She shrugs. "Dunno. Some kind of stress ball thingy. For your fingers."

"And how am I supposed to get up and get it now?" Ron asks, frowning.

"Oh, don't be a baby. You can get up all right. It's been weeks."

"Exactly. I am sick and tired of seeing your face every day."

Shego walks in, and disappears for a second as she kneels on the floor, searching for the ball. She reappears seconds later with the object in her hand, brushing the dirt off of it with a bare, pale hand. She strides back, and leans on a wall, looking at Ron intently.

"Then escape," she says, lazily throwing the ball in the air and catching it. "It'll be fun for both of us."

"You think I haven't thought of escaping before?"

She smiles. " As a matter of fact, yes." She squeezes the ball, and Ron cringes at the sound of plastic constricting in itself.

"Oh, you want to escape. But if you do, that actually would make you a failure."

"A failure. That's new."

"Yeah, but now it matters. She depends on you."

"Is Kim even alive?"

"Maybe." Shego looks away.

Ron growls, and with a kick of his legs, lunges at Shego. He can't even manage to leave his bed, however, as a red ball smacks on right between his eyes. He falls back on the bed like a rock.

"Easy there," Shego says, catching the ball again. She watches as boy struggles with the sheets. "You don't want to hurt yourself any more, trust me. If you manage to figure out a way to escape, try it. I'll be waiting for you."

Ron finally manages to untangle himself, panting. The sheets are soaked, and smell of sweat. He hears the door move, and raises his head to look up at Shego.

The ball smacks right on the angry red spot on his forehead, and he goes down again.

* * *

The next time Ron opens his eyes, there's a food tray on his lap, and Shego's sitting on the floor, resting her head on the door.

Her eyes are closed, and her mouth is half open. Her chest is rising and falling slowly underneath a plain black t- shirt, and he can't see her lower half because of the bed, but he knows, _knows_ that she's wearing matching slacks and her legs are bent and her feet are planted solidly on the ground.

Kim would sit like that, anyway.

Ron carefully sticks out a hand to the table beside him, and grabs the plastic fork which he knows Shego places there after she puts the tray on him. With it, he prods the plain pasta on the plate, but stops when he hears the shrill sound of the fork scraping the surface of porcelain. He doesn't want to wake her up, yet.

He chews, and chews. He imagines himself escaping. He's somehow evading Shego, grabbing the container, and finding his way through a maze of corridors until he's seeing the light at the end of... of something. His imagination is not allowing him to go any further for the moment, but that's okay.

Finishing up his meager food, Ron puts the tray on the table. The tray is made up of something he doesn't recognize, but it scarcely makes a sound. He looks at Shego's sleeping form. She's drooling.

Why is she sleeping there? Was she so tired that she couldn't go back to her room? If so, what was she up to?

Like a gunshot piercing the air, Shego snores for a single breath. Her head lolls to her side.

What can he do? She's leaning right on the door. He can't possibly leave the room without waking her up.

Hm.

The air whistles, and the stress ball hits Shego, cackling like a whip as it contacts.

Ignoring her howl of surprise (or is it pain?) Ron jumps from his bed, blanket in hand, and lands directly on top of her.

"Stoppable!" she yells under the layer of fabric. She's struggling against him with all her might. Ron rises and falls as if fighting the waves of a ocean. He's feeling inexplicably seasick.

A stray punch lands on his face, and even through it's softened by the blanket, Ron blacks out for a second.

Shego's twisting and struggling like a captured fish, but he's bigger. With a cry, he lands a fist on a bump that looks like her head. Her response is like music to his ears.

Swinging in all directions as if riding a wild buffalo, he raises another fist, but his shoulder hits the door, and he loses his balance.

"You-"

Pain explodes in Ron's head, and darkness meets him.

* * *

"That was pathetic."

Shego is sitting on a flimsy plastic chair this time. She's on full combat gear, and her hair is more disheveled and chaotic than usual, but that's not the first thing Ron notices after he regains consciousness.

She's holding a silver sphere in one of her hands, rolling it absentmindedly in her palm.

"What now?" Ron asks. Then he realizes he has made no sound. He asks again, stronger this time. He honestly has no idea about her intentions.

"Here," she says, and gently throws the ball at him. He catches it, and sees a distorted image of himself reflecting off the surface.

He really needs a haircut.

He raises his head again to look at Shego, brushing a few locks of blonde hair. She raises her eyebrows, obviously waiting for something. What does she want him to say?

"Why?"

"Consider it as a gift. You're the first person who managed to punch me straight in the ass and lived."

"I don't want this," Ron says, and throws the sphere back to her.

Shego reels back on her chair a little to catch the ball with both hands, trapping it on her lap. "What?"

"I fought tooth and nail to get that, and still you didn't let me. You are planning something, and I want no part in it."

Shego rolls her eyes dramatically and crosses her legs.

"I'll try to explain this as simply as I can. You are an idiot. There's no plan. I am keeping you captive on Drakken's orders. I am bored," she motions with her hand. "So, there."

Ron frowns. "That wasn't simple at all."

"Oh, just take it!" She throws the ball, hard. It bounces off the wall and lands on the foot of Ron's bed. Shego grabs the chair and drags it behind her. The door opens, and closes, and Ron is alone again.

* * *

He paces around the room. He hasn't worn his shoes for a long time, and his feet feel uncomfortable in them. Maybe he's grown a little in here. They are old trainers, and make no sound as he walks.

He's going insane in this place.

The outside world is all but a memory to him. He has slept about sixty or seventy times, so, coupled with the time he spent unconscious after he lost to Shego it must be his third month here.

Damn.

His parents are probably mourning his death. School's started. Kim... He hopes she's at least functioning normally. Maybe she can live a normal life this way. He doubts it, but it's a possibility. Hey, he was hit too, but he's feeling fine now. Kim is probably getting better, then.

No.

He grabs his hair with both hands, pulling it and trying to concentrate on his breathing. He has to keep a level head if he wants to at least get out of this sitch unscathed.

He has to change how he thinks. Months being stuck in a room with no one to talk to but Shego has to have changed him somewhat. He has resigned himself that he will never leave this place until he played his part in whatever plan Drakken had for him, but after all this time , he isn't so sure.

Maybe they're just keeping him here to ensure Kim stays incapacitated. Maybe Drakken plans to experiment on him to see why the Ray was so ineffective against him. He scratches the scar on his neck.

He'll never forget.

Hah, forget. When will he start to forget his parents' faces, Kim's face? Is he only going to see Shego for the rest of his life?

Is he going mad? Is he rational?

He stops just in between his bed and the door. He's looking at the wall, focusing on nothing in particular. His right shoulder twitches in anticipation. A hand scourges the pockets of his clean and unwrinkled cargo pants (he still can't imagine Shego ironing them) and brings the sphere. His reflection is frowning, and his jaw clenches.

He has to act. Now.

Now!

Without preparing his body, or his mind, or- or anything, really, he assaults the black door with all his might.

It creaks, it groans, and it opens without _any_ resistance.

He falls onto the ground, shoulder first, and cries in pain.

He's in a dark corridor. He can't see anything. Panting, he grabs his injured shoulder to alleviate the pain somewhat, and waits. The ground is dusty; he coughs irregularly in between breaths. He just lies on the floor, expecting Shego to pounce on him at any moment. She doesn't come.

Slowly, he gets up, and starts to walk.

* * *

"Finally! I've managed to find a safe line! I, Doctor Drakken, have finally brought- brought... Oh. Hello, Shego."

A few drops of sweat fall on the blue plastic mat. A boot, moving backwards in order to maintain balance, steps on them. Drakken hears sharp thumping noises, and he remembers the Godzilla movies he watched when he was little. And the nightmares, too.

"What, Drakken? I'm busy here!"

"Why is the visual not working?"

Thump thump.

"Turned it off. Don't wanna see your face."

Thump thump. Thumpthumpthump!

Drakken frowns. Shego is obviously bored out of her mind, trapped in there. Maybe he shouldn't have told her to hide. Well, it was obviously a good idea, since Shego actually did go into hiding, but still... Is she depressed?

"Are you- are you decent?"

Drakken cringes. _That_ came out wrong.

Thump thu-

"What?"

Footsteps. She's coming. Oh, crap. Crap. He quickly flips a switch.

Click.

Click.

"Drakken! Open your visual, _now_!"

"It- it seems to be broken!"

"Yeah, right."

"Really!"

"Look, you told me to lay low, and I am laying low. I'm all for getting paid for doing nothing. You call in the middle of my work out, and then ask me if I am naked or not, so now you must, and I repeat, _must,_ have some kind of a point. Make some sense. Or I will personally dig you out of whatever hole you're hiding in-"

"All right! I get the- the... What was-"

"The drift. You get the drift."

"Yeah, that."

"..."

"Uh, yes..."

"..."

"..."

"So?"

"Er, I- I actually called by accident..."

"You are dead, Drakken."

"Of course. Uh, so... How ya doin'?"

Click.

"Shego? Shego!"

* * *

"Shego? Hey, Shego!"

"WHAT?"

"Eh... Heh, heh... I'll- I'll call later."

* * *

Ron is sitting on the floor, eyes closed, head hitting softly on an unseen wall in an eternal rhythm.

He's lost. It's been hours. Shego probably knows he's gone by now. No element of surprise (he probably didn't have that anyway). This place is completely dark. He may as well have his eyes closed.

The hand in his pocket holds the container, and holds it tight. It's all he has, now. Without it...

He understands Shego.

She'll pay.

_"Let's play."_

Heh. Heh, heh, heh.

Time to change the rules.

* * *

Shego stares at the door. She's been staring at the door for the last two hours. She wonders what's taking Ron so long. Is he so monumental a moron that he hasn't even tried the door? She's given him the container so that he'd at least _try_.

She's incinerated everything that might be used as a weapon, bar the plastic chair and a matching plastic table with the mobile communications system. Setting plastic on fire in a room is not a great idea, and she's not suicidal enough to consider destroying her only means of communicating with the outside world, even though Drakken is not the ideal chatting partner.

She tries to look at somewhere else, but dull grey walls, floor, and ceiling do not prove as entertaining as the prospect of a fight.

She tried. She really did. She really, really tried to live in this hell hole. It's not like the money isn't enough; the prospect of a few billion dollars was enough for her to suppress everything she held dear for a whole summer. Besides, she had no drive, no goal. It's no good to get revenge on someone if she's a quivering mess of insecurity.

_"You should not be seen, or heard, for a while, Shego."_

And she obliged Drakken, mostly. She learned her lesson after she had to run away from the hordes of GJ after that bar fight. She didn't stick her head out of the sand (heh, _sand_) unnecessarily.

But, dammit, she's a fighter. She fights. No amount of money can change that. Not to mention _him_. He's the only one who can-

The door creaks, it's hinges screaming, and opens. She smiles, and stands up.

"About time you-"

Shego freezes.

Ron's standing completely erect, eyes focused on hers. His sleeves are torn. The right side is torn a little bit too much, and a sickly white shoulder is visible. His knuckles are covered with cloth.

His gaze never wavers as he lifts a metal ball the size of a tennis ball.

Her heart drops.

It's open.

The ball falls between his spread fingers, and falls. The open lid stops it from rolling away, and Shego hears a clank.

He- he... That's-

Ron smiles. His eyebrows rise. He can feel the rough cloth of his mission sweater under his fingertips as he clenches his hands into a fist.

"Let's try this again."

* * *

AN: Nothing is what it seems.

Mr. Wizard, CajunBear73, Uncanny12, Joe Stoppinghem, screaming phoenix, Mengsk, captainkodak1, Virusir, Comet Moon, and that anonymous guy there, thank you very much for you reviews and support. It's very motivating to see people actually responding to my works. This story has become a monster with all the lies, truths mixed with lies, conspiracies, twists, hidden agendas, consequences and character development it now contains in its outline. All thanks to your support. I hope I can deliver.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Confidence, part 6_**

_by CemK_

* * *

_They have lost again._

_Shego watches as short, stubby buildings pass by. They are mere blurs of chipped, rough cement walls, half opaque windows, heavy, crude doors. The cold wind slaps her face, and she could feel from the tiny pinpricks on her scalp and the gentle flapping noise around her ears that her hair is completely out of control._

_She feels her arms burn (oh so sweetly) as she holds on to the rope Drakken threw off hovering metal hunk of a disk. Through the thin fabric of her gloves, she can feel the biting, stinging sensation of the tightly woven bundle. She smells the rope, and it reminds her of old books and tests and sleep deprivation and burned tongues._

_She sticks out her tongue and tastes the air as streaks of white of a highway pass under her. It is salty. Her eyes are drying and starting to sting, so she closes them, and just hangs on._

_The buildings become scarcer, and now she can see patches of green in between grey. She hears a flock of birds taking off, wings beating in the air, and inhales fresh air. No grey anymore. Just green, and when she looks down, brown. _

_A long time ago, when they became too much, or when he became too much, or when it became too much, she would go somewhere like this. She would wail, she would meditate, she would lie on the ground face down and stick her nose in the earth, and smell the worms. She would burn leaves with her hands and watch them wilt out of existence with nary a whimper. Sometimes, when she was cal enough, she would search for a green, her green. She would place her hands and bare forearms next to all kinds of leaves and bushes and plants, seeing if something came close to match her shade of color._

_None._

_The burn becomes too much, and Shego ascends to the rusty hatch under the belly of the giant donut. _

_She huffs, and sits down on the fluffy yellow co- pilot's seat. She looks at Drakken._

_His gloved fist is clenched around the 'navigation stick' as he calls it. They are going faster than usual. Out of habit, Shego checks their rear, and sees nothing but an army of trees. She looks back at Drakken, and notices that he's not sitting. He is standing, expression blank. With his arm extended towards the stick, Drakken looks like a daring commander about to order an attack._

_Since he doesn't seem to notice her, Shego remains silent. Perspiration glistens on his forehead, and the smell reminds her of the day she caught him at her gym in one of the lairs after failing to keep up with that sidekick of Kim. He was working out, and working out very, very clumsily. He was probably lucky he didn't injure himself. That day, the whole room reeked of him, and she couldn't concentrate._

_Not long after, they lost again, and the gym was gone._

_Taking her eyes off of her boss, Shego presses a button on the armrest of her seat she specifically asked Drakken to design. A bottle of water pops up from an opening next to Drakken's controls and flashing lights._

_She's thirsty, but she doesn't open the bottle immediately. Instead, she twirls it in her hand, watching it bend the afternoon sun, and giving off a myriad of colors._

___

This is not good.

"Or," Ron says, " you can show me the way out."

Shego can almost see his eyes glinting in mirth.

"Why would I do that?"

Ron breaks his rigid stance, and doubles over. His shoulders are shaking erratically.

What the hell is going on?

Hands on knees, Ron raises his head. Tears are falling freely from crimson cheeks, but Shego knows better.

Ron's bare arm twitches, and the little tremor spreads throughout his body as if receiving an electric shock.

She knows _a lot_ about electricity.

He's laughing.

She clenches her fists, and the tips of her gloves bite into her hand.

"Why would you do that? _Why would you do that_?" His leg snaps forward.

A whistling. Something too small, to fast streaks through the air. It's like someone broke a very, very hard egg on her forehead. The room spins, and her thigh muscles are in overdrive to maintain balance.

"He shoots, and scores!" Ron says as the not so useless ball, having closed itself again on impact, rolls on the ground. It gets slower and slower, hits a wall, bounces off of irregular cement, swerves into a circle, and finally stops.

"You're- you're..." Shego feels seasick. Her forehead, already swelling, throbs along with her heart.

"What?" Ron asks, smiling casually. "Insane?"

Probably.

"A murderer?"

_Yes_.

Ron shakes his head, never averting his gaze on Shego. "No." The corner of his mouth rises. "I haven't killed anyone."

"You might as well-"

"Probably. It's irreversible, isn't it?" He points at the discarded container. "I'll make her better, though. It doesn't matter. Don't you worry."

Shit.

Shego plants her feet on the ground as solidly as possible. The soles of her feet hurt, and she clenches her toes in her boots reflexively. What's her next move?

"You're afraid."

"You're not Ron."

"_Obviously_ I am Ron!" he yells. "I am as Ron as you are Shego." His head tilts sideways, and a clump of blonde hair shift, falling down his ear, covering it completely.

"You _are_, right? Shego, I mean?" He wipes off a tear off his cheek with the cloth covering his hand.

"Doesn't matter, really. You look like her, talk like her, and I hope you fight like her." He takes his gaze off of her, and turns-

A wall of heat hits him like a ton of bricks, and he's falling, falling...

Shego hears Ron's cry of pain. She sees him slam haphazardly on the closed door behind him. Her feet can sense the subtle tremble of the ground as he slides back on the ground, and rolls. Rolls, until he's sprawled on the ground, facing the ceiling. He's at the very center of the room. Too close.

His chest rises and falls as if he's having a fit. He moans, groans, his fists pound the ground next to him.

"That- that all you got?" he says. Is he panting?

Shego freezes, arms stretched , open palms facing where he was standing a moment ago. She almost-

"My my," he says, swinging his limbs as if making a snow angel on the ground. "Who woulda thunk?"

She realizes she's been holding her breath. She lets a shaky breath in.

"You can't really control your powers that much, can you?"

Screw this.

Ron rolls away in one fluid motion just before Shego lands on the spot he was lying on, knee first. Still on the ground, he kicks out with a leg.

She lets out a startled 'eep' and tries to hobble out of his range, holding her knee, but Ron kicks again, growling, and this time he finds her shin.

It _hurts_.

She lands on her arm, and lets out a guttural sound that vibrates the insides of her closed lips. She looks up, and sees a-

* * *

Click.

"Shego? Is that you? I-"

"Shego's unavailable for the moment. Can I take a message?"

"Take a message? Who are- Oh."

"Oh, _indeed_. Hah. Always wanted to say that. _Indeed_. Heh."

"You're-"

"Just call me Drew."

"But that's my-"

"_That's the point, you moron_. Even _you_ can't forget your own name. So, there."

"Where's Shego?"

"On the ground. I _mighta_ kicked her in the face a few times..."

"You opened the-"

"No. I bash people's heads as a hobby. Quite refreshing, actually. You should try it sometime."

"..."

"Have you watched her sleep before? You probably didn't. She looks _so_ innocent, y'now? You can't see a lot, though. It's all _red_."

"What do you-"

"You know-"

"I know?"

"Yeah, you know."

"..."

"Come on... Clock's ticking."

"..."

"You have no idea where we are, do you?"

"..."

"Tick tock."

"I'm- I'm thinking..."

"That's new. Because if you did really think once in your miserable life, you would've realized _actually killing Kim would be better than what you did to her_!"

"I-"

"You broke everything! And here I am, collecting the pieces... And they are so small, and sharp, and...

"LET ME FINISH YOU BUFFOON!"

"..."

"..."

"Woah."

"Do you have _any_ idea what you did?"

"Yes. Maybe. No. You really want me to recap all the things I did while Shego's probably bleeding to death?"

"No. I just... wanted to make sure."

Click.

* * *

Ron stares at the device, taken aback. Did he just close the line, after he told him that Shego's at his mercy?

Either he's a complete idiot, or he has a plan.

He has a plan. Ron doesn't like that. He has to get out of-

A hand grabs his hair, and down his head goes. A smash, and the communications device falls off the table. It clangs and makes quite the noise, but doesn't bounce.

Ron grunts. The cheap plastic table is on the verge of tipping over from his weight, and he feels like a waffle, squished by an obstinate table and a very angry woman.

He hears Shego spit something viscous on the ground. Her head is near his ear. So close, in fact, his ear tingles with her breath.

"All right," she says. "Now-

"My ears are ticklish," Ron interrupts. He then slams an elbow at her side.

Shego cries, and arches her back in pain. Using her imbalance, Ron shifts all his weight on his back, and both topple away from the table. Shego's back hits the floor, and Ron's back hits Shego.

He rolls off of her, and gets up slowly, holding his face.

"That hurt!"

Shego is still on the ground rocking back and forth. She's holding the back of her head. Must've hit it during the fall, Ron muses. He steps forward and raises his foot as if to kick a soccer ball, hair flying in all directions in clumps, mixed with sweat and dust and someone's blood.

Even with her back turned to him, she knows what he's doing. All she hears is her heart throbbing in her head (damn it hurts!) but still, she _knows_ that he took off a leg from the ground.

In mid swing, Ron sees a flash of green.

_Oh, for the love of-_

The blast takes his leg off the ground. It bends unnaturally, and his sole hits his back. His other foot is still going forwards, and he looks like as if he's making a very clumsy attitude leap. He flails in the air, his momentum carrying him forward.

Right on top of her.

Ron sees everything. As he sails past her, he sees her bloody face. She's looking at him as if she's gazing the stars on a breezy summer day, with the greenest grass dancing around her reclining body...

Then it doesn't matter. Her arms extend towards her as if grabbing the sky, and his world becomes bright green, then black.

* * *

He rises, limbs flailing around like a ragdoll, and hits the ceiling without a sound. For a second, Shego freezes, her fists blazing and pointing directly at him. She cringes as he hits the ceiling, and-

Oh shi-

She rolls away, moaning in pain (her brain is moving in her skull, and it hurts, _hurts_) and Ron crashes like a sack of- of...

She can't think and, and... There has to be an 'and'... Right?

* * *

_She finally opens the bottle. Taking a swig, and gulping audibly as she tames her thirst, she glances again at Drakken's stoic face._

_She sighs, and the surface of the plastic bottle turns foggy as it meets hot air._

_Something went wrong. What went wrong?_

* * *

TBC

AN: Man, I love writing! Anyway, if you have any questions regarding this story (or, well, anything else, really), feel free to ask, and I'll answer them.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Confidence, part 7_**

_by CemK_

* * *

AN: Not pretty. Language. But I guess after reading six chapters, nobody's going to be deterred by them, right?

* * *

Ron coughs. And coughs. And coughs again. The next time he coughs, his throat is dry, and it starts to burn.

His eyes open. It's all a blur at first, and it takes a few seconds to come back to his senses at least to some level of functionality.

Then the pain starts.

God, it hurts. His back. It dominates all the other minor injuries he has. He twitches his fingers, and toes. He should be thankful for not breaking his spine in several pieces. Thankful that he's not dead.

All he feels is rage.

His nose detects the faint odor of sweat, mixed with his own blood. That's a given, what with the fighting and all. He's all but used to it. There's something else, though. The smell of burnt flesh. His flesh. He's smelt that before. The most frightening thing he has even seen...

_Kim's flesh._

It's too much. With a growl, Ron places his palms on the floor, and pushes himself up. The small pebbles of broken cement, fallen from his brief but extremely painful meeting with the ceiling, cut his now completely bare hands. He remembers covering his face with his hands, and the blast disintegrating the cloth surrounding his knuckles. His back is killing him. His hands are also quite sweaty, too, a fact he learns the hard way. He slips while getting up, and falls on the floor in a heap.

Great. He looks at his hands. Thin slices crisscross wildly on his palms, and blood drips down from his wrist to the floor. Just great.

Groaning, he rolls to his side, careful to avoid any other sharp pieces of debris. As he rolls, every single infinitesimal fragment of broken concrete shift and crunch, and Ron feels as if he's rolling on sand.

He opens his eyelids as much as he can, and tries to scan his surroundings. He sees a mess of black and green at the end of the room. It's not moving.

Shego. Is she dead?

She damn well shouldn't be. The woman's nigh invulnerable. Made of iron. And how's he going to find his way out of this maze if she's dead? No. She's not.

"Shego?" he calls. His voice sounds raw, and he feels as if he's rupturing his dry throat with every word he says. "You're not dead, are you?"

Out of the question. The universe doesn't work like that, dammit! She can't be gone just like that, when Kim lives in agony. Maybe if he kills himself he can find her and... well, hm. That's not really a good idea.

He's destroyed Kim. Forever. He'll live with that. No peace for him. No, sir. Hah.

Did he ever have a chance at saving her at all? A window of opportunity? Not likely. Damn. He can't even wallow in what if's and let it all out. He can feel nothing. He just... lives.

A jolt of pain courses throughout the nerves in his back and he thinks he may actually reconsider that too.

He hears murmuring. Ah, she's alive after all.

Good.

Growling in exertion, he tries again, more carefully this time. His vision blurs, and he stumbles again, but he manages not to fall. He stands up, head lolling to the sides. He doesn't have a lot of energy here. He can't sleep, though. The ground's mighty uncomfortable, and he doesn't want to let Shego have all the fun, now. That wouldn't do at all.

He shuffles, slowly, over to her body. She's not moving, bar the occasional twitch. He can still hear murmuring. He hair is spread all over her body and the floor in every direction imaginable, so much that he can only see the backs of her legs properly. Another step, and he's right next to her. He raises an eyebrow. Has she gone mad, like him? Maybe he can have a friend, here. Well, only one way to find out...

He raises his foot a little, and prods her gently with the tip of his sneakers. "Shego?"

Her reaction is immediate. She growls, turns, and grabs his foot, yanking it to her. Ron loses his balance, and cries in shock. Shego's gloving fist hits him right on the chest, and he's blasted off again with a bang, his shirt engulfed in flames.

He lands, and rolls, stopping just before he hits the ball. His rolling took out the flames, and he's miraculously unhurt by them, and still conscious to boot. He curls up in himself, trying to tone down the massive, throbbing, spreading pain on his chest. Whimpering and smoldering, he starts to rock back and forth on the floor.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Shego says. Ron hears footsteps coming closer. "You've no idea." She kicks him, and Ron rolls away with a soft cry, but then he hits the wall. He's stuck.

"It took me years to use this," she holds out a glowing hand, "as something other than a fancy brass knuckle." She kicks Ron again, and he whimpers.

"Took me years to actually realize a fraction of my potential." Kick. "Ten. Wasted. Years!"

Ron's tethering in and out of consciousness, but he manages to wonder when this stopped being about him and started being about Shego's own problems.

Suddenly, sharp claws bite into his back, and he's yanked upwards into a standing position. Shego watches as she holds Ron upright with a fist enclosing the back of Ron's collar. She slams Ron into the wall, and leans in next to his ear, concealed underneath wild, long hair.

"Then you come along. You face me. We fight. You're scared shitless, it's hard for you to even stand on your two feet. But you fight like a demon. It's been a long, long time since I fought someone like that."

Still holding Ron by the collar of his t-shirt, Shego presses the whole length of her forearm on Ron's back, squeezing him further and eliciting a cry from him.

"All talent, no skill. Some stuff you've watched Kim do... Her footwork doesn't suit you, by the way. But most importantly-"

Shego grunts as a stray elbow hits her in the abdomen. She tightens her grip, placing a knee on the back of one of Ron's knees for good measure.

"Mental strength," she whispers. She can feel the coolness of the blood spread all throughout her face cooling down, drying. "Now I get it."

Ron tries to find an opening to breathe. It's getting exceptionally hard, as his head is pressed to the wall, and his forehead and nose is directly in contact with the rough concrete. He can't turn his head without severely hurting his forehead. But he's getting tired of this.

"Why don't we talk over this over a hot cup of- of tea?" He blurts out.

"Shut up!" Shego presses him even further, and Ron stops his giggling.

"You've been hit by the Ray. Kim's been hit by the Ray. I've been hit by the Ray."

"We should hit Drakken with it, too. You know, to complete the set."

"You're the only one who've kept his wits together."

"Right. And now I'm all... ah! All fine and dandy."

Shego ignores his sarcasm and relaxes her hold somewhat after his cry of pain. She doesn't want to break any bones this time. "And I wondered why for a long time."

Ron's starting to hyperventilate. He can't move, damn it! "It- it doesn't matte-"

"_Of course it matters_! It means you are _different_." Suddenly, she lets go. Ron turns, and looks at her battered face, her gleaming eyes.

"And that, I get," she says, smiling. Understanding.

Ron, despite all the pain he's feeling right now, smiles. His eyes soften. Then he punches Shego straight on the nose.

* * *

Drakken is panicking. He scrambles around his hidden lab, trying to think of something to help Shego. Come on, anything. I've no idea where she is. Where is she? Where is she? I shouldn't have told her to find a place I didn't know. Where is she? Is she even alive? What does he want? Come on come on come on... He's mad. He's mad. Madder than I. Or is it 'me'? Shego'd know. She knows these things. Where is sh-?

Something beeps, and Drakken sprints to the source. At last! His search is ove-

Oh.

Oh, my.

* * *

Shego's laughing, holding her nose, and Ron's blood boils in anger.

"I'm nothing like you!" Ron seethes. His fist should be in agony, but he doesn't feel anything. He throws another wild haymaker, but Shego backpedals and he misses completely.

Her hands light up. "You're right. You punch like a girl." Then she sends a green blast right at him.

Ron dodges by leaning sideways, but he winces in pain as the minor burns on his chest are disturbed.

"You're not affected by the Ray because you were never relying on your confidence in your life. You never believed in yourself in anything you did."

Ron rolls away as the ground he just left explodes with a green flash. He doesn't have time to think at the moment, but he feels like Shego's stalling so that she can speak her mind.

"Yet you still do the things you do. And actually survive."

The ground below Ron shatters with a green blast, and he's thrown backwards, violently landing on the floor.

He pants, too tired to put up any more resistance. "Can't you screw with my mind like you did the last time and spare me the speech?"

"No."

"Aw, shucks."

Shego lets the glow dissipate. "Get up. I'm done with fighting. It's useless, anyway. You can't win."

Ron giggles. He scrambles to get up. Slips. Gets up again. His eyes are the saddest things she has seen, but he's still giggling. "Don't worry," he says, taking a furtive look at something silvery out of the corner of his eye. "I can do anything."

Shego's blood freezes in her veins. She clenches her jaw, and loudly blasts Ron away into unconsciousness.

Silence. Her heart pounds. The air smells of burnt hair. Serves him right.

Oh, damn.

She gave him the container. It was her. She never thought he'd open it. It was just a- just a motivation, that's all. So that he can fight her again. Then she was supposed to rough him up a little, and then actually tell him that... and maybe she could get what she wanted from him if she allowed him to leave with the blasted thing afterwards. A deal.

In retrospect, the plan sounds ridiculous. She can't allow him to leave. That's moronic. But then how-

_You can't really control your powers that much, can you?_

I can.

She raises a hand, and lets power surge through her arms. It lights up. She aims it at Ron, first. Then, deciding against hitting a live target looks for an expendable object.

Ah, the container. Fuck you.

She wills a minor spark at it, concentrating as hard as she can.

The roar is deafening, the brightness blinding, the green deadly. It _vaporizes_, and seconds later, all she sees is a crater instead of a wall.

She- she needs to hit something. Anything. She walks over to Ron's immobole body. He's still completely out of it, but looks as if he has just heard a mildly entertaining joke instead of as if he's sleeping or- or- whatever people look like when they're blasted away with concussive plasma. She kicks him, hard. She's not looking at where exactly, but she knows it's not the head. That's enough for her.

Kick the Ron. Heh. He'd laugh at that. It's all his fault, but he'd still laugh at that. Shego stops, and looks around.

There she is. One unconscious, insane boy, one communications device, one overturned plastic table, another plastic chair smoldering (she doesn't remember hitting it, smells terrible), one crater, and one bloody, bruised Shego, shoulders slumped, looking at nothing in particular.

A piece of cement from the top of the crater shudders, and falls, cracking into pieces on the floor.

Shego doesn't hear it.

Click.

_One pre recorded message. Pre recorded message beginning._

"Shego. It's Drakken. I guess you've beaten him by now. They know. Get out. Now. No time. GJ out for blood. Didn't tell you all of it. They _will_ kill you. Run."

_Pre recorded message end._

Click.

* * *

AN: Confused? You should be.


	8. Chapter 8

**_Confidence, part 8, _**

**_Interlude_**

_by CemK_

* * *

_Push, push, and she's out, broken leg and all. She rolls over the smell of sand and grease and fire. Cuts all over her body seem to appear out of nowhere, but she manages to roll off of the car and into a group of glass dispersed among a sea of sand._

_Her bad leg hits the ground first, and she can't even cry in pain as unconsciousness greets her, but not before she sees something._

The bed is soft and silky, but the mattress feels rough and cold to her bare legs. She shivers and brings her knees closer to her body, and tries to will herself back into sleep. Seems that she can't escape from the unforgiving mattress, though. She tries to ignore it, and doesn't think. Sleep. Her eyelids feel heavy, but she's not sleeping. She starts to get impatient, and considers opening her eyes. Something trickles down her cheek. Is it raining?

No.

A myoclonic jerk happens just before someone falls asleep. The brain thinks the body is dying, so it sends a signal to jolt it awake.

Shego hopes that it's the jerk that's causing her to feel what she's feeling right now. She doesn't dare open her eyes. She doesn't dare see. If only she couldn't feel the...

The bed is not soft and silky. It is rough. There is no bed. It is sand. There is no mattress. Her legs are burnt. It is not raining. She's hurt.

Shego opens her eyes, and all she sees is fire. This is hell.

Or is it? Everything turns black in an instant.

_"Get up."_

_"Uh, Shego? I was slee-"_

_"Get up!"_

_"Ow! Don't pull! I'm coming!"_

She's sure her eyes are open, but she's not seeing anything. Is she blind, now? Light? She tries to let her power flow through her hands. Nothing. Damn. She's dry.

_"If you want to live, shut up and keep your head down!" Shego yells, and steps on the gas pedal as hard as she can._

Well well, she really is on a bed, this time. She bounces lightly as springs squeak. It is then she notices her hands are tied. She tries to move them, and hears something metallic. Her ears start to ring. She flexes a bicep of her stretched arms as much as she can, and feels familiar cloth stretching to accommodate the shift of muscle. At least she's not naked. A small victory.

Damn ears won't stop ringing. She can't move her legs at all, they seem like they're bolted to the bed. Not like she can see, or course.

Her neck feels bare and cold, and her eyes suddenly open as wide as they can, realizing the missing feeling of hair. If they cut her hair out, she'd-

"You're awake, it seems."

_Suddenly, the car is not touching the ground._

It's too dark, but she knows that the rough, male sound is coming from her right. She won't even hint her confusion on her face, nor she will betray anything-

"Is the bed comfortable enough?"

Shego doesn't answer. The first shoe has dropped, where's the second one?

"Did one of the nurses inform you about the time yet?"

What? She-

"It's been three months, Shego."

Three mo- Who is this guy?

Her gaze tries to penetrate the darkness and find the source of the sound, to no avail. A rough, calloused palm touches her forehead. It's sticky, and too big, but she can't move and get rid of it.

"I know you can't see me, but I'm here."

Oh, hell. Who knew it was so dark?

_Darkness reigns over the sands. Save for the slight wind, nothing moves; nothing lives. _

_Rays of brilliant green slices through the dark, and metal groans. With a cry, Shego blasts a part of the bottom of the car up in the air. She tries to move her leg, but it's stuck somewhere. She tries to move it around to loosen herself off the car, but it proves too painful. Broken._

She hears footsteps, and a door creaks. It is then she closes her eyes (were they open?) scrunches up her face, and silently cries.

* * *

Okay. She's not crazy. She just doesn't know what the hell's happening. She's not crazy.

_She knows what to do. Breathe in, out, in, out, and she pulls and pulls and... and..._

_Snap, and her leg is loose again but she's crying and it hurts, hurts, hurts so much...._

Okay. So much for not crazy. She's seeing things. Or dreaming? Hallucinating? Can the blind hallucinate?

Or is she remembering? Did that happen?

Answers, dammit! She trashes about in her bonds, and, with an exasperated whimper, stops.

She stinks. She needs to-

"We're not going to let you go anywhere, Shego."

When did he- Is she going deaf as well? Are they doing something to her?

"Who - who the hell are-" she cries. She can't finish, and starts coughing. Her throat-

A hand, _the_ hand, grabs her face again. Before she can even contemplate putting up some kind of resistance (but oh how much she dreamt of biting those goddamn fingers off) he opens her mouth with the base of his palm and something small, something long, something plastic-

A straw. She can't even resist. One brief suck, and water. It flows through her throat, and its coldness makes her insides burn.

And it is gone.

"That is not for me to divulge" the voice says. "I'm here to ask you questions, and get answers. _Correct_ answers. Until then, you can shit into your pants as much as you want. Do you understand? "

_And Ron is gone._

_Shego looks around the car in panic. Nothing. Nothing except a few shards of bloody glass. She takes large gulps of air. She needs to calm down., before she passes out again. The door is not opening, so she grabs the edges and pushes herself up. The edges are sharp, and hot, and she bites her lip to keep herself from screaming._

She feels the bed squeak as a body leans on it from the side, and two hands grasp her bound forearms. He's panting, and her eyes sting as cold air is blown onto them. He tightens his grip on her wrists , and she bites her tongue.

"Or... chop chop."

She- he- her-

Footsteps fade; she trembles.

_Do mushrooms grow in the desert?_

* * *

TBC


End file.
